Convoluted
by Pencilwalla
Summary: AU. In a world ruled by monsters, Integral Hellsing undertakes a dangerous mission, only to be caught by the conspiracies set by her allies and enemies alike.
1. Prologue

Convoluted

_Convoluted_

_Summary: We are all strings in the tapestry of life; the question is, whose thread are you intertwined with? In a world ruled by monsters, Integra Hellsing undertakes a dangerous mission where nothing is as it seems. _

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In the year 2000, the world fell down.

Germany- the ruler of the world after a massive victory in WWII- finally perfected their artificial vampire army. They clamored down on their sprawling empire, and inflated their own egos to the point where the Freaks, as they were called, considered themselves far superior to the original article. It seemed as though a few pockets of rebellion- leftover vampire hunting organizations still hanging on to their old ways- would be crushed like ants.

Left without a choice, the Hellsing Organization released a sealed weapon: the most powerful vampire in the world. Dracula. Unfortunately, they were unable to contain his power: he slaughtered everything in his way.

Emboldened, real vampires who had been content to live quiet, solitary lives came to join him, staging a massive coup all over the world. The Freaks were annihilated. The German Empire came to an end. The vampire empire was born, and at its head was the idol of all vampires: Dracula himself.

By the year 2050, all traces of the former regime had been removed, and the vampires were out in force, using all their power to create a glorious new civilization for themselves. That same year, Dracula took up residence on an island off the coast of England- now called Capital Isle and ceased to interfere too much with the developing new world.

A millennium passed, and humans began to lose hope. They adapted to their new roles- akin to livestock- and lived relatively peaceful lives in comparison to the early days of rule. There were only two pockets of widespread resistance left in the world.

Vatican Secret Section XIII: Iscariot, and Hellsing.

The year 3050 dawned on an ambitious world...vampires preparing for their grandest celebration...Iscariot doing secret experiments in the dark...and Hellsing, plotting, as they hadn't done for a thousand years...

...and a bored vampire, who defied convention and flew across the sea in search of entertainment...

--

**So, this is my second Hellsing is- first was deleted after I went back over it and decided it required serious attention. This is an AU fic, so although I will draw heavily on concepts, events, etc. from the original, there are changes, and there will be times when characters are OOC...my hope is that these moments will make sense in the context and circumstance of the story. Updates will be infrequent, slow, and entirely dependent on how inspired I am. Reviews are always wanted. **

**-chickentyrant5**


	2. Recruiting

Chapter One

"Myers, Jeremy!"

Deep underground on the coast of France, there were the remnants of a train system. It was considered abandoned, but recently, the Hellsing organization had begun restoring it. It provided a useful way to secretly move troops, supplies, and on occasion, new recruits to headquarters. At present, interviews were being held for the latest rookies.

Jeremy Myers got up form his uncomfortable plastic seat, gave the rusted metal around him an arrogant once-over, and swaggered into the next cabin.

"You Jeremy Myers?"

"Yeah, what of it?" He asked. The man interviewing was dressed in a Hellsing uniform, wearing a hat and eye patch, and possessed a long orange braid wrapped round his head like a scarf. He looked more like a bandit than a vampire hunter, and Jeremy felt that this interview was but a formality. Hellsing needed men like himself, not these riffraff.

"Sit down. I'm Captain Bernadette of the Wild Geese. We're mercenaries who've worked for Hellsing for almost four years. It's my job to find out whether you've got the guts and skills necessary to be more than canon fodder. So let's begin, Mr. Myers."

Jeremy sat down, wincing at another green plastic chair, and waited.

"Alright. What skills do you have?"

"I'm a good shot, a strong leader, and I can use a mace." He said, proudly playing with his long brown bangs. He thought they made him look dashing.

"Good shot? What's your percentage?"

"Eighty-nine percent. Better than most Hellsing troops, I'll bet."

"You'll have to go through a shooting course. We usually want ninety-five for a soldier who relies on his gun. What about your mace?"

"I've defeated plenty of opponents better armed and stronger with it."

"Ever fought a vampire?"

"No, of course not."

"Ever seen one?"

"No."

"Why do you want to join Hellsing, then? You've got a grudge against a vampire, maybe your family was one of the Fallen?"

Jeremy was outraged. He stood up, towering about the Captain's head, and roared.

"What's it to you? How dare you call me a Fallen!"

"So you have no motivation...glory and power, eh? Boss-Lady isn't going to like that..."

"Boss-Lady? Your leader is a woman?"

Bernadette gave him a sharp look. "What do you have against women?"

"The weaker sex should be kept from unpleasantness."

"Weaker sex?"

"They don't send men for tribute."

"That's because female vampiresses are a dying breed. Nothing to do with weaker or stronger. I'm sorry, but if that's the way you feel, I'm afraid you'll never last in Hellsing."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because our second-in-command is a woman, and she'd make mincemeat out of you. We just can't afford to clean up your dead body."

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Two days later, the six news recruits off of the Delta Train Route, accompanied by Pip Bernadette, arrived at Hellsing HQ. It was a large, underground building set into a secluded nook of the coastline. The tides and waves kept it from discovery by sea; the constant sunshine kept it from discovery by land. The Headquarters was located on the French coast.

Among these six was, surprisingly, Jeremy Myers. He'd been accepted despite rejection from both Bernadette and the second-in-command; Lord Hellsing had approved him on the basis of his family's power. Jeremy was gloating openly about this, and Bernadette was certain he would either die in battle or be completely ostracized by his own comrades; such arrogance was not going to foster goodwill towards him.

The two women and four men were led into the facility for their tour early in the morning. Their exhaustion dissipated at the hustle and bustle of the enormous room they'd entered. It was wide, long, and well-lit, with a bar where food was served on one side and room with a connecting glass wall where people were going in and out, getting what looked to be papers. In the center, there were a number of rectangular tables and a raised platform with a microphone.

"Alright, this is the main hall. We eat here, we get our mail over there behind the glass, you meet people here, and you socialize here. When you're not trying to sleep or getting killed, that is." Pip paused to let the six absorb this. He motioned to one corner, where a tall, well-built man dressed as a priest was discoursing to several others dressed in uniform.

"The pries over there is Father Anderson. He's preparing them for a supply run later on. Don't get in his way; he's a regenerator, he's stronger than all six of you combined. He teaches some of the training courses you'll be required to complete starting tomorrow."

"I thought Iscariot and Hellsing didn't get along." One of the women pointed out.

"He's a defector. Joined up with us twenty years or so ago."

They went through a pair of double doors set in the opposite side of the hall and found themselves in a round corridor, with doors on all sides. They were labeled, and to the left there was a grand staircase, richly carpeted with gleaming banisters.

"Library, labs, hospital, training area, exit to soldier's barracks and outdoor training fields. Surface exit," Pip pointed to the corresponding door as he identified the different rooms, "and personal quarters for the bosses. Don't go up there unless they call you."

"Why are our quarters outside?" Jeremy demanded. "Don't the officers, at least, get rooms up there?"

"Nope. Only the boss and the boss's bodyguards up there."

"Unfair."

"Deal with it. You're here to fight vampires, remember? Soon you'll be grateful just to have a place to pretend to sleep."

The training areas were filled with people, even at this time of day; everything from practice raids to fencing matches were going on in there. The sounds of metal clashing, bullets hitting targets, and screaming created a cacophony that would have made anyone's ears hurt.

In particular, there was a lot of yelling going on around the fencing match; a crowd had gathered and was cheering and booing as the two figures-one with long, white-blonde hair and a suit, the other with a buzz-cut and a uniform-fought viciously. Within minutes, the match was over, the buzz-cur guy flat on his back with a saber-point at his throat.

"Hey! Boss-Lady!" Pip yelled, and the blonde victor looked up, pulling off her mask. Underneath, she was stern-faced and darker-skinned than her hair color would have suggested.

"You've brought in the new recruits, Captain? Let me see them."

Nervously, the six were led into the hallway to face the woman.

"I am Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, second-in-command of Hellsing and Knight of Fernwood." That raised heads-Fernwood was the codename for the secret government still ruling humanity after the takeover by vampirekind. Knights of Fernwood were powerful people, and were usually heads of organizations rather than seconds.

"Uppity little slut." Jeremy muttered under his breath, throwing Integra's less than feminine attire a sharp look. Integra raised an eyebrow, and than swiftly kicked his feet out from under him.

"I could care less if you like me, Mr. Myers, but you will respect me or be discharged from this organization." She snapped. "I have no patience for fools, especially expendable ones."

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The current head of Hellsing wasn't working, as might be expected. Instead, he was reclining in his private sitting room, drinking some very expensive wines and reading a contract. This was no ordinary contract; the paper was made from shadow, and the ink was blood. It was a contract Richard Hellsing had gone to great lengths to obtain secretly, and was now hesitant to sign.

Not out of mercy or guilt for the carnage that would result, but for his own hide. He had no way of enforcing this contract but faith in the dark magic that had made it possible. And that magic had already failed the Hellsing family once.

Still, the temptation was too much, and Richard was a greedy man, as he had been since the day he was born. He signed with a flourish, and rolled up the pitch black sheet.

Glancing around, he made sure there was no one watching. Then he climbed onto the table, opened a trapdoor in the ceiling and shoved the paper through. A bat would be there to retrieve it at sunset.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, the coward knelt down and began to pray in vain.

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Integral knew a lot about the basement. It was sealed off from most of the inhabitants, but she knew a few tricks that had allowed her to use some of the rooms to do research. Grand, bold, fearsome research that her ancestors had once carried out. Despite it being forbidden by her uncle, Integra pressed on. She had little respect for the man, for he was less than competent at his job. The men all prayed that he would die soon so his niece could take power.

But today, she wasn't working on her usual project. No, this was something new. She laid upon the table a twisted piece of metal- a thick rod waited to be used in the construction of a train track. The end was smashed, flattened in the shape of fingers, as though someone had gripped it impossibly tight.

"The effects of the Iscariot incident are finally taking effect." She whispered into the recorder, then picked up the ruined steel and bending it. She felt no more effort than it took to move her hands through the air, yet the end of the rod met. "Increased strength, and improved reflexes as well as the primary symptom have occurred."

Laying the twisted bar down, she turned her attention to a pile of black fabric. It was specially made black-out cloth, designed to create total darkness, and strong enough to resist the sharp edge of a knife. She'd had this bodice and pair of gloves specially made with cut-outs and zippers for easy access to her skin. No one would notice if she changed her gloves, except perhaps Walter. No doubt she would need a suitable excuse.

Frowning, she looked down at her bare fingers, faintly glowing gold. Handy if she was down in a dark basement, but they would attract too much attention, hence the black-out gloves. The sparking only occurred when she got upset or distressed, although she suspected being overly happy might also cause it.

Her, overly happy. The thought made her laugh bitterly.

The sound of footsteps on the floor above reminded her of her limited time. She was expected to greet Anderson and his raiders when they returned.

She changed into her new, black-out fabric clothes, and slipped back up the staircase.

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"Sir Hellsing?" Walter caught up with her as she was heading into the front hall. "Lord Hellsing wants you in his office."

"I'll go after I get the report form Anderson. Those inventories need to be submitted to Fernwood tomorrow."

"I would advise having those reports brought to you and going now, sir. It's very important."

"Alright then. Bring some tea up, and inform Anderson to meet me in my office in half an hour."

Less than five minutes later, she was seated in front of her uncle's desk. The office was lushly decorated, a stark contrast to her Spartan workspace. Even the frames on the walls were gilded.

"You wanted to speak to me." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, I want to discuss a very important mission with you. Have you heard of Codename: Mina?"

"Yes, of course. It's the infiltration plan."

Richard leaned forward. He knew it might take some convincing. "Now is the perfect time to implement it, Integra. The vampires are preparing their millennial celebration, and they'll all be gathered on Capital Isle. There is even the chance that _he_ will be there."

"And you think I should be the one."

"You're the best trained woman...and the only virgin. We won't be able to communicate with the person inside. The person inside has to survive or the plan won't work."

"Obviously. Uncle, this is not a time when we can spare anyone. We're understaffed as it is."

"Integral, this will never come again. We need more information than we have, and being able to attack the Millennium celebration would be a blow for humanity unlike anything in the history of vampire rule. This could be a turning pint of history. Integral, Hellsing needs you to do this."

"I..." Integra sighed. She knew she was going to agree, had known it the moment he'd mentioned it. He was right, surprisingly enough: Hellsing and the world needed to take an active stance and sneaking her in as tribute was the best way. "When do we begin?"

Inwardly, Richard let out a relieved sigh. Step one was a success. "There's a family with a daughter who's recently died. The death has gone unreported as of now. You'll be taking her place."

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**Well, what do you all think? The readers in this section are freaking stingy with their reviews...**

**Hopefully, Alucard in the next chapter and Sera in the third. **

**This has been chickentyrant5.**


	3. Little Hellsing Girl

_Chapter Two_

"Ida, darling? Come inside, we'll have dinner." Her mother's voice was thinner, weaker, then Ida had ever heard it. Mother had always been a little colorless, a little pale, but now what life had been left in her, untouched by her poor health, had been stamped out by grief. Her sister was dead now, and Ida would be gone in three days.

She tried to tell herself, as she had done for years, that Mother would be fine, that she would get better.

But how? How would she regain her health when their father was too grief-stricken to support her? Ida and Susan had been the ones who made beds and cooked meals, who sang songs and told stories. They had encouraged Mother to keep living.

Mother was going to die soon, Ida felt, and it weighed heavily on her.

Picking herself off of the garden bench, she threw the sunset a glance and scurried in. The night was not a safe place for a virgin, even one destined for the tribute ship's cargo hold. Too many villagers were still upset at the mayor's decision to aid, rather than foil Hellsing. Too many were too caught up in trying to protect themselves to bother with the fate of the world.

Ida agreed in part with them. No matter how grand and bold your ideas were, it was the rare human who could face a vampire. The fact was, fighting tended to get you and your family killed. Every on that went off to fight vampires left behind parents and siblings who needed every worker. In this village, where the ground was infertile and the weather erratic, food was scarce and life expectancy short.

Her thoughts were cut short by the flickering light in the house; the village's electricity was out, again. Her mother lit candles with shaking fingers, and Ida move instinctively to take the lighter from the white, wrinkled hands. The table was stocked with a meager and appetizing meal, which her father would chew without tasting, Ida would eat with a false pleasure, and her mother would refuse.

Susan had been good at coaxing Mother into eating. Susan had been good at cooking, too. She had filled the dinner table with chatter, right up until the day when she woke up and couldn't summon the energy to rise from bed. It had only taken hours for her to gasp her way to death. Her wasted figure, her grey pallor, her frail image stuck in Ida's mind as she looked at the empty spot where her sister had once sat, at the place where her plate had used to be.

Her spot would be empty soon. This time next week, her parents would dine alone. Just three days til the end of everything. It seemed such a short time. Three days ago, Susan had been intimating she might get married. Three days ago, Ida had been smiling and laughing as they toiled over their back-up generator.

Three days ago, Susan had been alive and well. She had been right there, gulping down her weak tea and gushing over the beans.

The doorbell rang.

For a moment, they all continued to stare into space, motionless. Then, with heaviness in her chest, Ida rose and went to the door. Through the peephole, she could see the visitor: a face, blue eyes, round glasses. The description matched the one Hellsing had sent over, so she opened the door.

Despite their similar hair colors, this woman was practically the antithesis of Susan. Ida was glad-her mother's heart would not have borne that resemblance well. No, this woman looked like she fought monsters, with a hard expression, stiff, plain black dress, and saber hanging off her hip.

"Are you Ida Dow?" She asked.

"Yes." Ida replied. She stepped inside and gestured towards the table and the fire, burning low. "Come in, Miss..."

"Wingates." Integra answered. Given the controversy over her arrival, she thought it better to conceal her identity. Besides, they could not tell a vampire what they did not know, even under hypnosis. "Integral Wingates." She followed Ida inside, and seated herself uncomfortably at the only empty chair. Jonathan Dow let out a low moan and staggered off to his room, pausing only to grab a bottle from the cabinet. Maria Dow gave Integra a pained smile and welcomed her to their home.

"It's not much, I'm afraid." She said kindly. "What with Susan's...we haven't had the time to..."

"It's quite alright. Please, let me know if I can do something for you." The knight replied. She had dealt with those grieving before, had been comforting bereft mothers her whole life, but never before someone whose loss had not been partly her fault. It was a strange feeling of helplessness. She couldn't give this woman the reassurance of her child's honorable death, or a pension, or a paid-for military funeral. Just words, hollow, empty words.

"Thank you, dear. I'm sure you're...tired..." Maria was the one who looked tired; her face was deathly pale and she yawned repeatedly. Ida led her to her bedroom by the hand, tucked both parents in, and removed the wine bottle from her father's bedside. She came back to the main room, where Integral was cleaning her gun.

"You'll be sleeping on the floor in here. We haven't an extra bed."

"That's fine." Ida found her eyes drawn to Integra's gun as it gleamed in the flickering firelight. She herself had never held a gun, never fired one. Even her father's weapon was more for show; while he did use it on occasion, there were plenty of young hotheads in the village to do the shooting, fighting, and hunting. "Tomorrow, I need to see whoever's in charge of escorting the tribute maidens to the station."

"He won't speak to you." Ida replied. "He hates Hellsing; his wife was killed under the watch of one of your men."

"His wife was a ghoul. Believe me, my men were merciful." Integra sighed. "Once a human has become a ghoul, they die, or make more ghouls. There's no returning."

"Eric won't see it that way. He'll refuse to talk to you no matter what. He's a stubborn man, and his wife's death hardened him."

"I'll make him see sense." The gun cleaned, she stowed it in her skirts and stood up, dusting herself off. She picked up a black leather bag at her feet. "Where's your bathroom?"

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It was completely unlike Integra to skip guard duty, but when Anderson went looking for her, there was a soldier in her place, claiming he'd been rudely woken and told to go upstairs and hold her shift. Richard claimed ignorance; Walter said she was at breakfast; no on had seen her anywhere.

Anderson was beginning to be worried. Her fiancé would be here soon, on his monthly visit, and he'd have t make up a lie. Worse yet, no one else seemed even remotely worried; the men were too busy and too certain of their commander's invincibility, while Walter and Richard just smiled at him. Something was definitely up.

"Anderson. The archbishop is here. Perhaps you ought to speak to him? Tell him how dreadfully ill Sir Hellsing is. She's been awfully peaky looking." Walter's voice as the butler easily kept pace with him, carrying what looked like a roll of white satin. Presumably a gift from Maxwell.

Anderson raised an eyebrow. Integra had been healthy as a horse yesterday, beating up on the recruits and giving speeches that drove the men into frenzies. But Walter would not ask him to lie without reason, so he made his way to a conference room where two of his old comrades and Maxwell waited.

"Where is Integral? I have a gift for her." Maxwell reclined in a chair, playing with his glasses. A bouquet of yellow roses were laying on the table, wrapped in gauzy white fabric.

"She's terribly ill and asks you return another time." Anderson recited.

"The poor thing. I demand to be allowed to comfort my bride."

"Not today, Maxwell. You'd best return to Iscariot."

Maxwell stood up, and Heinkel and Yumiko moved in behind him. Yumiko's fingers rested lightly on the bridge of her nose, prepared to throw off her glasses and release Yumie should the need arise. Anderson tensed, a bayonet in his sleeve.

"Sir!" A head poked in, and both parties turned to see one of the messengers with a harassed look on his face. "Sir Hellsing's been quarantined. She says no one's to see her. She also sent up this note, for the archbishop." Maxwell snatched the folded paper from the boy's hand. He fled, taking the untouched tea tray by the window with him.

_Dear Maxwell,_

_Due to the nature of my illness, I have no choice but to ask to you to ease my suffering by removing yourself form the premises. At least I will know that one person is safe from harm._

_Sincerely,_

_Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing_

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The third morning, the morning of her departure, couldn't come quickly enough. Integral felt a desire to reach her destination, fueled by hatred for the enemy and curiosity for information. Today she would venture into territory no one returned to tell of: the tribute caravans. Then she would see the cargo holds of the vampire's ships, the inside of that magnificent castle.

She could only hope to come home and tell the tale.

Her companion, her 'sister' Ida seemed like a decent sort as well. She was cool-headed and fairly intelligent, and Integral had given her as much information as possible on the treatment of tribute maidens. The stories-horrific rapes, forced draining, fierce beatings were widespread but unconfirmed. However, they did know that the occasional woman would endear herself to a vampire and be turned into a midian herself.

Dressed ,washed, Integra went into the main room, where Ida was sitting. She was knitting a scarf, still half done. Her movements were automatic; her eyes were filled with tears. She hadn't yet noticed Integra's entrance.

"Ida." She dropped the scarf, and looked at her guest.

"It was Susan's scarf. She was knitting it for Mother...she gets cold..." Ida stopped. "You said you could help us. Can you organization help my parents? They can't look after themselves, Integra. Mother's been sick her whole life. Susan's dead. Father's drowning in drink. They'll die without someone to help them."

"I can arrange for them to be moved elsewhere. Who's in charge of the post here?"

"Mr. Jengle. We can drop off the letter on our way to meet Eric. Thank you."

"It's nothing. Get your coat; it's colder over the ocean."

The two walked down to the edge of town, where a truck was waiting. They climbed into the back, covered by a canvas, and watched the country go by. Eric easily navigated the winding farmer's roads, with their sharp turns and less than stellar condition. All too soon, the station appeared on the horizon.

"That's as far as I go. You walk from here. The vampires are waiting for you."

They climbed out of the truck, slung their meager possessions over their shoulders, and began the trek uphill. It was a square stone building, built no doubt to keep out light, with no windows. The sun had set by the time they finished their silent climb, and in the dark they could barely see the gate. It didn't matter.

The vampire could see them just fine, and he proved it by seizing them from behind and dragging them into the station.

It was dimly lit, just enough for them to move about, with several large crates, easily big enough for several people to sit in, lying about. Bales of some kind of padding also were piled on one side. There was perhaps four other girls there already, held by another vampire. In the gloom, Integra squinted to make out details that she could give later.

They were rudely put into a crate, along with some padding and a sack of raw vegetables, and loaded onto a truck. The vampires talked business, of the route ahead, and the payment they would receive at first. As the night went on, Integra's companions slept fitfully; she remained awake, listening to the details of the celebration planned at Midian. Of course, these vampires were mostly gossiping about who was there, and they spoke of rumors regarding _him_, which she wouldn't believe until confirmed.

For a week, they were kept in the crate. The other girls' names were Anne, Sara, Jennifer, and Eliza. Mostly they were quiet, occasionally voicing fears. Integra refrained from sharing too much information about herself, sticking to the lie: she was Ida's sister, Susan Dow. She was adopted. The scars they noted during their daily river baths were from an accident.

The ship they were loaded into was different. They were still kept in crates, but in much larger ones, big enough for twenty girls. Integra estimated perhaps two hundred maidens wee on this ship, and seventy vampires. These were low-level ones, and they were barely undead, unable to withstand sunlight or anything holy. Blood laced with garlic would incapacitate them temporarily. However, their undead strength was more than enough to make them fearsome.

Integra knew that the estimated vampire population was much less than the number of humans. She also knew the entire vampire population could be crammed into the area that had been Australia. Most of these were low-level midians. There was a very small population of female vampires, split into recently turned fledglings that wallowed in sin, and ancient beauties who scorned their contemporaries for their lack of refinement.

And the population was thought to be shrinking, since no new males were being made.

And yet they could spare so many for transporting tribute. Integra wondered if it was simply the excesses of vampiric nobility, or if they had begun using artificially made vampires.

The change in movement of the ship, a slowing and then a final stop woke whoever was sleeping. They clutched hands and waited with bated breath as the crate was lifted and moved for the longest time. Eventually, it was laid gently on the ground and the door was pried open.

"Tribute Caravan 40C, Crate E." Someone announced, and the faint light of candles reached their eyes. The girls covered them, and then peeked through their fingers. A small group of black-cloaked vampires, eyes glowing, were standing on one side. A line of the vampire who had sailed knelt on the ground on the other. One vampire in particular, taller and less corporeal than the others, seemed to inspire fear in his fellows. They stood away from him, as if he bore some strange, mildly contagious disease.

Integral felt cold eyes meet her own, and a shadowy presence seemed to fill the air around, inside her. She knew him, even though they'd never met. And he knew her, too.

She was jolted out of uneasy thoughts by the girls around her; following barked, harsh orders, they matched in a straight line any schoolteacher would have envied. They presented themselves to the vampire lords in fear.

_So these are the unholy vampire freaks so revered by their fellow, poorer filth. _

_It's nice to meet you, too...little Hellsing girl._

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**Yes, this is a quick update. Resident Quetzal agreed to beta for me, and her help made this chapter even better. I'm not actually sure what happens in the next chapter (I have like four different outlines and none of them make sense), and Alucard's presence makes everything after this point obnoxiously hard to write, so don't expect updates anytime soon. But do review! Reviews inspire me!**

**This has been chickentyrant5.**


	4. Vampire Lord

_Chapter Three_

_Get out of my head!_ With an effort, she mentally shoved against the foreign, icy feeling in her head. It dissipated, and she drew her mind in, trying to shield it as best she could. Rumors of his strength, at least, were truthful- he was strong. No vampire had ever come into Integra's mind so casually before.

Beside her, Integra felt Ida shudder and reminded herself where she was. The vampire lords were staring at the women, talking quietly amongst themselves. The lower, sailor vampires were gaping too, but they were louder: from what Integra understood, they would receive any 'leftovers' as payment.

After what seemed a very long time, during which Integra was uncomfortably aware of _his_ eyes and mind trying to reach hers, an agreement was reached and the conversing vampire lords grew quiet. One of them motioned to the line on the other side, and several of the lower vampires came forward. They herded the maidens forward, and after a brief conversation with the lords, began tagging them like cattle by piercing their left earlobe with a golden stud. They were efficient, but not gentle; they paid no heed to the pain they were causing.

Ida was snatched forward, and the ear gun was quickly put to use; but when it came to Integra's turn, an arm shot out and stopped him. The vampire looked up, saw who it was, executed a hasty and deep bow and fled in the opposite direction.

"Hello," said Dracula menacingly. He looked amused, something that made Integra wary and wanting her saber.In her experience, vampires and humans tended to find completely opposite things humorous. "What brings you to my humble abode, little Hellsing?'

"The Tribute Act of 2070. What brings you here, Count?"

"I was bored, so I came looking for…entertainment."

"Is that a euphemism for fresh blood? Sex? Both?"

"Why do you ask? Are you offering, little Hellsing girl? Is rebelling against bondage too much effort for the lady?"

"You'd know all about rebelling against bondage, wouldn't you, Count?"

"I did impale a lot of traitors in my more active days, or are you referring to the Master who was so kind as to release me?**"**

A scream drew Integra's attention elsewhere, although she took care to keep her back form facing the Count himself. One of the women had attempted to flee; now she was firmly in the grasp of one of the vampire lords. With a snarl, the vampire lord tugged on her hair, baring her throat. Integra reacted, following her natural instinct to keep civilians from harm.

"What refined manners you have, freak. I've met more cultured roaches." The vampire abruptly dropped the poor woman, who began to crawl, terrified, away. Beside her, Dracula started to laugh. "This is the pinnacle of vampire culture? This is your great accomplishment? You've gone from being damned to hell to being too vile even for hell's deepest circle?" Integral kept talking, watching the woman until she was out of any vampire's direct reach. For all their superior senses, the vampires were easily distracted by the slightest hint of rebellion.

"Quiet, you human bitch. Do you know to whom you speak?" The vampire lord advanced on her.

"I wouldn't waste my time trying to learn the names of filth like you." She replied. The vampire abruptly stopped his advance, and it was easy to see why: Dracula had causally slid an arm around Integra's shoulder. She shrugged him off, but by then the other vampires had decided it wasn't worth crossing the Count to try and kill Integral. One by one, they carried off the newly-tagged girls.

The vampire lords' home was made of steel rather than stone, and looked impenetrable. It wasn't an attractive building, and Integra suspected, judging by the single tower jutting out from the roof and the size of the building, that most of it was underground. There were several antennae also mounted on the sides of the tower. From its turret roof, there flew a flag-black background, a single drop of blood in its center.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Integra asked archly. "I'm cold."

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"What is this?" Anderson asked. He looked down to Maxwell, who was somberly looking back. "First you call me to escort you out to the truck, when you know full well there's not a vampire around here for miles, now you give me this? We swore not to speak of it, Maxwell." The manila folder he referredto was slim, containing only a few sheets of paper. It was labeled simply **Project Isotope**.

"Anderson, I was not honest with you about these results."

"I don't want to know what monstrosities you committed! It's a mercy the project was without successes." He turned to leave, the folder crumpling in his grip. Anderson could not think of this topic **without**a surge of righteous, unbearable wrath. This was what had lead to his defection, after all.

"There was a success." Maxwell hissed, and the other priest stopped abruptly. His head snapped around to meet Maxwell's eyes. They showed no trace of dishonesty. "An unexpected one. The subject escaped. Our research has suggested the effects will have begun to show. You know how dangerous these powers are."

"Too much for any one person to have. Why did Iscariot decide to play God? Regeneration is one thing, but that...that was against God."

"Anderson, I'm asking you to help me. We lost the main portion during the aftermath ten years ago. Two of the remaining shards have been stolen. The last...the final one...I entrust to you. It cannot be destroyed, but you can keep it out of the escaped subject's hands."

"You were a fool, Maxwell, to help them make a holy vampire! I'll take that piece, and don't ever speak of this again! I'm leaving."

The two parted, and Anderson walked off as fast as he could, listening to the rumble of the truck as the Iscariots drove away. He was still furious, and wondered if there would be a raid tonight. He wanted, suddenly, to get into a good, old-fashioned fight.

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"Shitfuck," Pip muttered, looking around. This ruin of a village wasn't familiar to him, he couldn't recall ever having to go through a report for it, and it seemed odd that a vampire would have ravaged a place so close to the sea and so far from a city.

The trail of destruction seemed to radiate from the church; rusted guns were piled among the pews and old blood stains mingled with moss and rot. There was no sign of survivors, or of any recent activity; the place was obviously deserted. And yet, somehow, they'd been called here by a rising column of smoke.

Someone had set a hut, off the outskirts of the village, afire. There were no remains, so no one had been killed in the fire. Yet it had occurred. It wasn't like vampires to burn things; they preferred to simply bloody up the ground and walls before departing, bloated with blood.

So now Pip was pawing through one of the many houses left partially standing in the village, looking for a clue. This room was bare of decoration and contained only a dresser and cot. However, someone had left in a hurry; the clothes from the dresser were all over the floor, dusty and ragged. They were a young woman's clothes, a few months out of style. There was also a picture frame, broken, with no photo in it.

Nothing of interest. He sighed and headed outside, where his men were starting to assemble. Judging from their expressions, they'd found nothing and were ready to go home, eat, bathe, and prepare for a real mission.

The Geese were well disciplined, and it only took them a quarter of an hour to get packed into the truck. As **Pip**climbed in, the last of them, he noticed something colorful lying on the ground. Frowning, he went over to pick it up, ignoring the men's grumbling. It was a photograph, of a group of policemen and women. Some kind of special force, he guessed. They were all smiling into the camera, and he felt a pang for them. There was a girl in the picture, the only one, who was wearing a scarf he'd seen on the floor of the cottage.

Shrugging, he pocketed the picture and turned back to the convoy. As he did, something golden flashed in the corner of his eye. He whipped around, but there was no one anywhere. He boarded the truck, shut the back door, and it rumbled away.

A pair of wide, frightened blue eyes watched as it vanished into the woods.

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The inside of Castle Nosferatu, as Integra learned it was called, was much less harsh than the outside. The lords had a taste for luxury, and it showed in the lavish decorations, old-world themes, and architecture. The carpets were soft, the walls covered in hangings, paintings, and the occasional mirror (none silver-backed). The moldings were intricate, gilded, or both. The vampiric aversion to light meant there were only candles, and those mostly for the sake of the human women.

The tribute maidens were all kept in one large room, equipped with a pile of foam mats, a slot in the door where the food came in if they weren't needed, and one bathroom. There was also a closet in which various outfits, all neck-baring, were hung. It was a cold room, with a fireplace that was rarely lit and a small candle in the bathroom.

Integral had not been kept in this room; she had been there for only a half-hour when a servant came in and said she was to be moved somewhere else. Somewhere else turned out to be a small private room and bathroom of her own, in another part of the castle. It was nicer than the rooms the other women were kept in, probably a guest room for a vampiress, and it made Integra uncomfortable.

The schedules were nocturnal, and they all suffered from a sort of jet lag due to the change. If the vampire lord in question wanted a woman, she was to get dressed and wait until he came and fetched her. Some of the girls had been there for longer, and they could provide gory details, when they felt like talking.

In particular there was Maria, who had been there for almost a month and gotten away with only a slight anemia. She expected to die any day and spent almost all of her time talking, as if trying to deluge all her knowledge upon her fellows before she was gone. From her, Integra learned that there were four vampire lords who held the highest positions and were the most respected; Lord Vale, who was the head of the East and had a vampire mistress who was over a millennium old and supposedly a real beauty; Lord Sadden of the West, who was known for his sadism and who had killed every woman he'd laid hands on; Lord Fin of the South who had his own harem of young, fledgling vampiresses; and Lord Meht of the North, who was scholarly and had an irrational hatred of humans after a group of hunters had, before WWII, slain his companion.

Dracula himself was an unknown; Integra was the only female he'd paid attention to and he was visiting the world he'd inspired for the first time in centuries. The only concrete thing the girls had observed was that the older lords disliked him, the younger lords worshipped him, and everyone was a little afraid of him. Even if she hadn't known he was in charge, it was obvious by the way other vampires reacted to his presence. Many of the vampires were recognizable by their particular taste in clothes, according to the girls. But after Dracula's arrival, they'd al began to imitate him. Within days, everyone was wearing black suits and red cravats; some to better effect than others.**Many of them had even changed their hair color, although all four vampire lords of the cardinal directions were distinctly fair-haired.**

Integral learned all this when she visited the other girls; there was no guard outside her door nor was there a bolt on the outside, as there was for the others. Since no one cared what she did when she was alone, she spent her time with them, listening to their words and trying to gain the knowledge she'd been sent to obtain.

The first time Dracula came, uninvited, into her room, was during her eighth day. She'd been wondering when this was going to happen. He walked in through the wall while she was making the bed, and he looked so amused that she wondered if there was some sort of carnage going on.

"What is it?" Integra asked.

"Someone sent me a coffin," he replied. She almost laughed-this particular scheme had been Walter's idea and **its**audacity had surprised her.

"Rather careless of you not to bring it when you first arrived."

"I did .That's what makes this so amusing, little Hellsing; not only is this coffin not mine, it's been magically sealed against my opening it...and it's signed with your name."

"Vampires are notoriously possessive of their coffins; send one to Castle Nosferatu under the count's name and no one will dare to try and open it. That way, you'll have some change at being properly armed." Walter had said. It seemed he'd been right. She made a note to buy him some new monofilament.

"It's polite to sign your name to a gift, so you'll know who to thank later on." She said. "Where is it?"

"What's in it? Guns, swords, books? Something you don't want me to see."

"I'll have to open it and see; I don't know any more than you do." She said smugly. "You'd think security would at least have thought to look at the sender's name."

"Well played, little girl, but how are you going to explain your sudden armory?"

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	5. Candles In The Dark

_Chapter Four_

It was dreadful, Seras thought, to be caught in between. She was just barely a vampire, but she wasn't human enough to be able to do anything to get out of her situation. A year! She was a year older and weaker than she had ever been as a human; so weak that it had taken all her strength to drag herself up here, onto the roof of a church. Even though she'd learned long ago a church was no protection against the undead.

Now she lay prone on the slanted roof, listening to the moans of the ghouls that were swarming below. The lowly vampires who had ravaged this little outpost were long gone; they had left the place desolate and destroyed. But Seras hadn't realized that, her senses too weak from separation from her coffin and thirst, until she collapsed at the border. They had smelled her.

Somehow she'd run 'til here. Now she was still, and sure that if this place were to fall down, she would die. There was no one to 'save' her this time.

"Hey! Watch yourselves!" A voice, vaguely familiar, came from somewhere to her left. She turned her head and saw a flash of orange. The memory of her last home, ripped to pieces and rotting away, came back to her. This was the man who had taken her picture. Hellsing agents! She was saved!

No. That was wrong. She was dead for certain now.

Gunfire pounded beneath her, the screaming of ghouls mingled with the war cries of soldiers. For what seemed like forever, Seras lay there, waiting, wishing her skin wasn't quite so fair, and her hair a little less blonde. She could hear which side was going to win.

"Alright, rookies. Move the injured first! Check for survivors, pronto!" That man was the leader. He as, if Seas remembered correctly, the Captain.

"Captain! Up there!" They had spotted her. She shrank against the shingles, feeling them scratch at her bare arms, and was actually grateful she was so pathetic at this moment. The wounds would not heal. It would be one less thing to give her away.

Come to think of it, her eyes were still blue, and her fangs had shrunk from the lack of blood. As long a she was careful, they might not even notice who and what she was. Hope renewed, she began trying to sit up. A human would want to be found.

"Help." She said weakly. "Please...help me..." They couldn't have heard her, but her feeble struggles were enough. Within minutes a man in uniform had climbed up to her, and then she was being bundled up and put into a truck.

"N...No. I have to...stay here." She insisted.

"You're a police girl." The Captain leaned over her. He was holding her picture in one hand. She tried and failed to reach for it; she could barely make her hand twitch.

"How...how did you..."

"Look at this picture. I found it in a village off the coast. Don't worry. Headquarters will look after you. Come on, rookies, let's go!"

"No...I'm not...leave me here..."

"You can't even move!"

"Please...please...please..." Her vision began to blur, but she forced her eyes to remain open, trying to will coherency to her lips. It was vital that she be left here; once in Hellsing proper they could kill her at any time. "People...coming...family...tell them...sister..." Her planned out lie didn't come out the way she had planned, but it stirred sympathy. They looked at each other, and whispered. Her ears were buzzing, making it hard to hear, but she got the impression they were arguing on whether to listen to her or not.

"If we leave you here, will you be alright?" Someone asked her finally.

"Father...doctor...fine. Leave...in...house..." She was picked up and carried into one of the homes; her fluttering eyelids afforded her only glimpses of blankets being thrown over her and clutter cleared away. Within minutes she was unconscious.

Pip glanced at the three men who had come with him. "We're getting late. Move out. We'll make contact on our way home; have them send a group from the nearest village. Let's go!"

The four men returned to the waiting truck and hauled themselves into it. It set off at a fast pace; they were already a bit behind. The sound of the truck faded off into the distance.

Within the cottage, a figure stirred. The night was still young, and even the weakest midian felt the instinct to rise as the stars shone down on them. Seras awoke, feeling no better than she had, and said a prayer of thanks that she hadn't been found out. When she had clawed her way into a sitting position, she saw that there was something laid at her bedside.

A picture.

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"Walter? Did you bring Anderson?" Lord Hellsing asked. Walter nodded, and the burly priest came in behind him. He looked worn-out, something that was unusual for him. The reminder of Project Isotope from Maxwell had given him truly awful dreams.

"Are you going to tell me what's become of Integra?" He asked. "It's not fair to make a man her bodyguard and have her vanish without any warning."

"We decided to implement Codename: Mina." Lord Hellsing explained. "She has, with luck, taken up residence on Capital Isle as a tribute maiden."

"Are you mad? She'll be killed or worse. That plan was deemed too dangerous to use!"

"I tried to dissuade her, but she was bent on it. I'm sure my niece can handle herself. What's important is that you keep quiet about this. You and Walter will have to pick up the slack while she's away."

"While she's away? Where's the guarantee she'll even come back? And how is she to get us any information assuming she's still alive?"

"We'll send someone to rendezvous with her during the millennial festival in Midian."

Anderson looked like he would have quite liked to stab Richard with a bayonet, but he restrained himself. He knew there was nothing he could do, and it was best to keep up appearances until they had some news. He nodded to Walter and left; no one tried to stop him. Arthur Hellsing had been in power when Anderson defected, and his brother had done nothing to merit any loyalty. To try and control him without anyone's support was pointless.

After a few minutes brief conversation, Walter also exited the office. Richard watched the door shut impatiently and fumbled for the letter he had received earlier in his desk. It was made of the same shadow paper and blood ink as the contract he had signed, and it requested an immediate reply. He had fulfilled his terms; now it was the other party's turn. Richard's head filled with possibilities; the world was suddenly at his fingertips; he decided quickly on what he wanted.

There were no pointless prayers after he left this letter out. The Lord Hellsing was in his own mind a God.

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Her hands were practically on fire.

She clenched her fists, feeling the fabric of her gloves, feeling the heat in her veins intensify with her own frustration. The effects had began to fade after that first experiment in the basement, but the glowing, heated sensation in her hands, arms, and chest had returned tenfold. While the black-out clothes did their work, and it wasn't painful, it was disconcerting and a reminder of how dangerous her position was. She didn't know how to use her powers or what she could do; if anyone else found out before she was able to conduct some research she would be in trouble.

Her theory was that the constant exposure to vampires was beginning to take its toll on her. The project had been designed to fight that which was unholy, after all, and few things were less holy than the soulless nosferatu.

She was particularly thankful for the gloves today, since she was attempting to conduct some intelligence gathering. To that end, she slipped out of her room and made her way, guiding herself with her hands against the wall, to the library. She had not come in here during the night because one, she wanted to avoid the other vampires and two; the door was bolted with heavy steel. As she was, it posed no problem, but she didn't want anyone, especially Dracula, to notice her enhanced strength.

After gaining entrance to the room, she pulled out a small flashlight that had come in her coffin and used it to see the titles of the nearest books. The room was vast, but mercifully empty, and the books she was looking at were useless. Shakespeare and some Bronte, works she already had thanks to the preservation efforts of her ancestors and didn't particularly like.

"Couldn't sleep?" Several red eyes opened in the gloom around her, seemingly disembodied. She scowled.

"No."

"The bar on that door is heavy."

"I suppose you've gotten frail in your old age. You'll have dementia next."

He pulled himself into a corporeal form and examined the volumes she'd been perusing.

"But of course you've read these."

"Some. I am not fond of Shakespeare, or of romances."

"Because they remind of you of what you do not have?"

"Because they waste time I could devote to other matters.' She raised her eyebrows at him. "What is it you think I do not have?"

"Romance."

"I'm engaged to be married, so it seems a moot point." Dracula chuckled at this, and her frown deepened. She pulled a familiar title of the shelf and idly opened it to a page.

"To which unfortunate soul?"

"My uncle made the match for solely diplomatic reasons. Reasons which would be pointless if anything were to happen to him." Integra laid emphasis on the last phrase. She replaced the book in her hands, the famous Shakespearean tragedy, and moved to another shelf. It was all fiction, all fairly old. There was nothing helpful here.

"If you're looking for the texts I stole last millennium, they aren't here."

"I didn't expect them to be. I'm looking for the latest government census."

"It's rather dry reading."

"It can't be any worse than _Romeo and Juliet, _and I'm hardly reading it for pleasure_._"

"It ends much like Romeo and Juliet does-people die and a page is given to them in tribute."

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She was starting to wonder if there was a "Kill Me!" sign taped to her back. She couldn't explain the fact that ghouls had randomly just swarmed out of nowhere any other way. Actually, she could tell that her senses were still deteriorating, which would explain why the ghouls had just come from nowhere: she wasn't sharp enough to sense them. Why there were so many ghouls was another matter. But one she felt she could ponder later.

They were on lower ground than her as of now; the night was still, young so she couldn't rely on the sun. She had come towards the coast, thinking it would be relatively safer near the ocean. But the mountains, and the beaches beyond them, afforded her no protection, it seemed.

They were getting closer. There was no cover here. It was like that night...

"_Eddie? Simon? Don't you recognize me?"_

"_Guys? It's me, Kitten?"_

"_You...you're not human!"_

"_So...what are you going to do?"_

It was just like that night...where she had died...

Seras was afraid...and her eyes took on a crimson cast.

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The outdoor training grounds for Hellsing HQ were a mile or so off from the top of the building itself. They were disguised as a rocky plateau, and extensive engineering had created several hidden caches in the rock that contained equipment. Here, Pip Bernadette and the unfortunate rookies were learning how to hit things with a gun. Normally, Integra helped teach this course, but since she was 'ill' it was left to Pip.

"Aim, Myers! Hitting the vampire in the leg won't do anyone any good!"

"This is a new kind of gun!" Jeremy protested, flicking his bangs back.

"And cut your hair!"

"Why should I?"

"Beca-" The argument abruptly ended as the wind carried over a sound. Someone was screaming, a high, keening noise. It was unfamiliar to him. It was coming from the cliffs overlooking the nearby beaches, and Pip's instinct told him to go and see. The Captain was a man who believed firmly in a soldier's sixth sense, and motioned for one of his own trusted men to take over. He grabbed a gun, some ammunition, and a few other items, then started hiking up. The sun was beginning to rise, and he knew he would be relatively safe from any supernatural threat.

Over the crest of the rocks, he saw a flash of gold. He climbed faster.

What he saw was not what he expected.

"A vampire?" It was indeed a vampire. She was almost pitiful, screaming and growling, hugging the ground as she suffered under the faint light of the rising sun. Around her, the ground was strewn with dust and blood; she herself was soaked in it. Her face was hidden as she bent over the ground; he dimly recognized the ruffled blonde hair.

"Police Girl?" At his voice, she looked up. Her mouth was streaked with blood, the barely visible tip of her tongue coated in it.

Her eyes were red, and she had pronounced fangs, but her rises faded blue and her fangs shrank as she took him in.

"You're the Captain..." She swallowed. Seras licked her lips, smelling him, thinking of his fresh, warm blood... and shrank away from him in horror. Oh, God. She had to get away from him before she slaughtered him. The dim memory of what she had done to the ghouls flickered within. Oh, Go. She was so, so thirsty. Ghoul's blood would be nothing compared to hot blood from a living throat.

She had to run away, but the sun kept her pinned.

"Your eyes aren't red anymore." He commented. The absurdity of the situation struck him. He'd never actually talked to a vampire before.

"N-No, I haven't drunk blood yet. Master said after I did my powers would manifest properly."

"Weren't you just drinking blood?"

"It has to be human blood. Ghoul's blood isn't..." She hesitated. "Nutritious."

"Nutritious." Pip repeated. "Right. Why'd you become a vampire?"

Seras frowned. The same question had haunted her after her turning; the answer still eluded her in her darker hours. "I didn't want to die, I suppose. Even though I had nothing to want to keep living for."

"Makes sense." He said quietly. There were bloody years leaking form Seras' eyes now, and an unwanted pang of guilt sprang through him. "Why'd you kill the ghouls?"

"I snapped." She said in a hollow voice. She shook her head. "They got too close, and I just snapped. Otherwise I'm weak as a kitten. I really should be at Castle Nosferatu, with my Master, but I wanted to see humans, be near them. Pretend that I was still...Without a coffin and blood I'm pretty much useless."

"Who's this Master you keep talking about?"

"My Sire. You know, the vampire who made me. His name's...well, I don't actually know his name." Seras watched Pip carefully. He didn't seem to be getting ready to shoot her, or attack, so she decided to take a chance. She took a step backwards.

His hand went to his gun, but the movement was half-hearted. "Where are you going?"

"To find cover and a place to sleep. I'm not really strong enough to handle the sun."

"How long have you been...y'know, a..." He felt hesitant to actually say the word. Without any warning, the conversation had become personal, and she looked upset enough already without him aggravating her. Even if he had been the kind of man who enjoyed tormenting young women, the fact remained that she'd already said she could snap and slaughter hordes of ghouls with her bare hands, and possibly teeth.

"Around a year. How long have you worked for Hellsing?" Seras blinked several times, her vision starting to blur. Damn. Her master had warned her that she'd be near blind in sunlight, but being 'half-vampire', she had been able to see a little bit so far. Now that she thought about it, her eyes felt really, really dry. She closed her eyes entirely, but the pain didn't stop.

"Four years." He answered. Pip saw her tortured expression. "Is that sun that bad?"

"If I don't get out of it, I'll go blind." She said, frightened. 'I don't even know if they'll heal once the sun goes down. Without blood I..." Her voice trailed off. Pip reached unconsciously for his eyepatch; he'd lost the eyes in a firefight in his early days. It had taken him quite a while to relearn to see with one eye. He couldn't imagine having either of them, having to lose his livelihood and his vision in one fell swoop.

She was already trapped in the darkness. Did it matter if it was all she would ever see?

"If I leave, will you shoot me in the back?"

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**Longer chapter! Woot! PipxSeras, who are easy to write! Another woot! Questions? Comments? Flames? Review, people, there's a pretty button and everything!**


	6. What We Seek To Know

_Chapter Five_

Integral was enjoying the census far more than anyone would have guessed. It seemed that a segment of the tribute virgins was set aside each year for breeding purposes, and the strongest of the humans that were born were turned as soon as they were old enough after being severely brainwashed. It explained the large amounts of vampires she'd seen on the ship, and it confirmed that the population was in decline.

Her study completed, she stowed the binder in her coffin and sat down on the polished lid. Her mind was on ways to get message out to the Hellsing headquarters, but so far she was drawing a blank. The vampire's postal system didn't connect to the Fernwood-run human system, and there were no outposts anywhere on Capital Isle. One ferry ran twice a year in secret form the mainland, carrying all the mail it could hold and that particular ferry didn't land anywhere near here.

The only solution was to wait and see, a tactic Integral hated but had learned was necessary. From her growing exhaustion, she guessed it was around mid-morning. As she rifled around in her pocket, looking for her watch to confirm, she felt a presence in the room.

Thinking it was a vampire, her hand dropped to her knee casually, ready to go for her gun. But the figure standing sheepishly in her room didn't look particularly threatening.

"S-Sorry, I didn't know there was anyone here. I just..." The young woman peered at Integra. She rubbed the back of her neck, and Integra noted her fangs and slightly glowing eyes as she gave the hunter a shy smile. "I'm looking for my Master, have you-"

"Oh, it's you." Dracula came in through the opposite wall, blatantly ignoring the door as usual. "You've been drinking blood, Police Girl. Perhaps you're not entirely useless."

"Why is it that vampires always seem to lack the common courtesies they learned as humans?" Integral asked snappishly. "At least introduce yourself if you plan to invade my room, girl."

"I'm Sera Victoria. It's a pleasure to meet you. Are you one of-" Before Seras could finish her sentence, she was interrupted again.

"She's mine." Dracula said, smirking. Integra gave him her best glare, and sourly addressed Seras.

"I'm Susan. I'm one of the tribute maidens." The Hellsing introduced herself. Relaxing, or rather pretending to, she laid her head against the wall. Seras mimicked her, leaning back against the nearest wall. The two stared at each other for a long moment, Integral's gaze unflinching, Seras's shy and hesitant. Finally, the fledgling ducked her head.

"Ah..." Unable to think of anything to say, Seras looked to **her** master for help. He provided none: he was looking at Integral. "I thought the tribute maidens were staying somewhere else...?" Immediately, she winced, shutting her mouth. She felt like an idiot for saying something so stupid. Susan wouldn't want to talk about being a tribute maiden; she was practically a slave, after all.

Integral shrugged noncommittally. "Should a young vampiress be wandering around by herself?"

"I can handle myself quite well." Seras assured her. Integra rolled her eyes.

"Obviously. I was referring to the fact that hungry vampires, particularly hungry fledglings rarely have the self-control to keep from feeding on something. Is it safe for the poor humans who might encounter you?"

Seras had not been expecting that. She frowned, feeling guilty now. At the time of her choosing to wander, her craving for human contact had been stronger than the ever-present thirst. But she also remembered her blank periods, when she would awake to the aftermath of carnage.

"I...I've never even...I would never..." Seras tried to explain. "I'm not going to kill anyone!" Whether she wanted to convince herself, or the woman before her, she wasn't sure.

"How do you plan to survive, then?" Integral continued with her questioning. She'd never encountered a vampire as young as this one and been able to have a conversation. Her curiosity might have been cruel, but Integral didn't hold with lies meant to make people feel good about themselves at the possible expense of human life.

"I...I could just...I don't..." Seras found herself grasping for words yet again. The problem had never been presented to her in this light; she had never questioned her belief that it was wrong to drink human blood. It had been instilled in her, as in everyone she knew, since she was just a child. But she didn't want to die, if she was honest with herself.

Integral watched Seras closely, waiting for an answer. She noticed two things that gave her pause. One, that there was a long, orange hair on her shoulder, presumably from the person she'd drunk from. That person was still alive, of that Integra had been reasonably sure, because from this fledgling's demeanor she still had a very human mindset. The second thing was that something was sticking out of Seras's pocket. A silver pair of dogtags.

Familiar dogtags, with an engraved goose and the Hellsing insignia on them. **It** could have been any **of **the Geese's tags, but Integral also noted that the goose engraved on this pair was wearing an eyepatch.

Sera Victoria had run into Pip Bernadette.

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Maxwell was not very good at decoding.

He knew how to do it, but it always took him an innumerable length of time, and he usually had his memos brought to him decrypted for that reason. However, these files were technically in a sub-section of Iscariot he wasn't supposed to be able to access without approval from the Pope himself. So he was left to do the decoding himself.

Project Isotope was fascinating. While Maxwell had known some of the details, having participated in the project, he had not been privy to all of it. There had been, **from**what he gathered, two facilities, not one, and that was where the only success had been. Curiously enough, everyone who'd had direct contact with the subject was now dead. Those people numbered only four or five, but the mere act that there was no one able to tell them even what the subject looked like made him wonder.

He also wondered who had thought to burn the preliminary files on the subject. All they had was the final reports, saying that the experiment had been at least partially successful. There were numerous references to papers they simply did not have.

However, Maxwell was determined to find out the identity of the missing subject and apprehend them. They would be the ultimate weapon against vampires, and they could not be allowed to simply roam free or worse yet, aid the Church's enemies.

But all he had really learned from the forbidden files was that no one knew anything. It was maddening. There were references to various security tapes, but those were, of course, destroyed.

Sighing, he set the papers aside, moving them under some more boring files. Perhaps later they would be clearer. Despite his façade of knowledge in front of Anderson, Maxwell knew that he could do nothing until he had a scrap of information.

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After Captain Bernadette's bizarre behavior during a regular training exercise with the recruits, Walter had felt it was wise to first, speak to him and see if the captain would not talk, and second, conceal the incident from Richard, who had a tendency to fire first, ask questions later.

So he went down into the library.

"Captain Bernadette?"

"Hey! Walter." Pip was no longer pale and he had taken off the clothes he had been wearing, which had been covered in blood. He projected an aura of casual friendliness, obviously meant to distract Walter from his reasons for coming down. The butler was neither fooled nor deterred.

"I understand you displayed some alarming and unusual behavior earlier today. Perhaps you'd like to talk about it."

Pip froze. His expressions stiffened and then hardened. "No. I wouldn't like to talk about it."

Taken slightly aback at the hostility, Walter saw in the mercenary's eyes that he was serious. And the man had displayed a spotless record so far.

"Captain Bernadette, if this is something that might endanger Hellsing, you need to inform us immediately." He warned Pip. Pip nodded.

"It's a personal problem. It won't impact my work, or this organization." The older man decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he made a mental note to have Anderson keep an eye on him anyways. With Integral gone, he felt it was important to keep even more vigilant than usual.

As soon as the butler had exited, Pip groaned. He knew his actions had been highly suspicious, but there was no way he could have told anyone anything. Giving a vampire blood had been quite possible the stupidest and most impulsive decision of his life, akin to throwing a wounded foe a loaded gun. Yet the idea of leaving the vampiress there, trapped by the sun, slowly going blind, had been something he didn't want staining his conscience.

To top it off, after getting back to his bunk, he'd realized that she'd made off with his dogtags.

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"What did they give you to wear?" This question, directed at Integral, was from one of the other maidens. Integral was perplexed; she had no idea what the girl was referring to, and she didn't like being in the dark.

"Wear for what?"

"There's some sort of a meeting in two nights. The four lords all picked out a maiden and said we had to be dressed for being 'presented'. I thought since you were with..." She trailed off, obviously pitying Integral.

"I wasn't invited**. ****At** least, not yet." Integral said. She wondered if 'presented' was a euphemism for 'eaten', or if the vampires were planning to boast the tiny number of female vampires by forcibly changing a few of the virgins left. Another nighttime visit to the library was in order.

_You have terrible manners for a guest._

_Stay out of my head. And do not refer to me as a guest; I am a prisoner. I don't recall being invited here so much as I do being bodily dragged here._

_If you're so curious about our meeting, you're welcome to come, provided you participate._

_Participate? In some sick vampiric ritual that no doubt involves pain, blood, death, loss of hard-won virginity, and becoming a member of the undead? I think not. What sort of host attaches conditions to his invitations? What awful manners you have. No wonder your fledgling doesn't know anything. What sort of meeting is it, exactly?_

_After insulting me, you expect me to answer your questions. Only a Hellsing could be so demanding._

_I'm being held against my will; I'll demand whatever I like._

_We're just discussing the fate of our empire, the various rebellions that exist, the topics I imagine your own organization discusses. Will you attend?_

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

The Lords Fin, Vale, Sadden, and Meht were having a terse discussion over the proceeding soon to take place. They held this talk in the main hall during the middle of the day, to avoid anyone listening in.

"I still think we should consider an alternate plan. This is folly. We know nothing about these humans that suggests they are worthy of immorality." Lord Meht argued.

Lord Vale shook his head. "Don't let your prejudices get in the way, Meht. Our race is declining."

"All attempts at sexual reproduction have failed, Meht. Let go of that idea. We have to start bolstering our numbers. It's not enough to produce masses of low level vampires for general work. Without being bitten by the opposite sex and utilizing only the transfusion methods, there is only so much we can achieve. We need more women." Lord Fin insisted. That he was monopolizing most of the recently turned women in his harem went unvoiced.

Lord Sadden finally spoke. "As loathe as I am to simply turn whatever we happen to have on hand, it is necessary. I share your distaste, Meht, but this is a stopgap solution. We need more time to find suitable candidates."

The four then began discussing possible candidates. They had already selected four, but new figures had come in that made them consider choosing more. It was not until a good half hour had elapsed that anyone brought up a previously taboo subject.

"And _his_ maiden?" Lord Vale asked softly. The other three looked at him, hesitating. "She's untouched. I don't even think _he's_ feeding off of her."

"It's nothing worth starting a fight over." Lord Fin pointed out. He said what no one else wanted to admit. "And do you want to cross _him_, Vale? I don't, not until I know I can win. We know nothing right now."

The four looked at each other in silence for a few minutes, considering the problem that Dracula presented. The rumors of his power were almost mythical by now; while the four had been part of the original uprising, only Sadden had been close to one of Dracula's battles, and he had only seen the direct aftermath. A field of impaled, bloody corpses.

No one really wanted to find out exactly how that had come about.

"It's funny isn't it?" Meht mused. "A vampire who technically has no say in anything. He holds no position, he rarely even ventures out into society, and yet we all tremble at the sound of his name. We could just order him to give her up."

"If we wanted to die...again." Vale said. "He turned that human girl before; he might turn this one."

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Richard was feeling rather triumphant as of late. His plan been carried out to perfection. The contracts had been signed, all obstacles removed, payment sent. There was nothing really left but to do what he'd wanted all along: flaunt his power to the world.

To that end, he ignored his entire staff and announced he would personally lead the next operation. A few low-level vampires had been seen leisurely approaching a village nearby, and the Hellsing Organization was sending a crack team as fast as possible. If anyone else had had a say, Richard would have been fed to the vampires before being allowed to possibly screw up a mission, but as he was the one in charge, and Integral was not around to boss him into submission, he was going.

It was a terse drive in the truck as Richard sat there, looking perfectly smug and forcing everyone to sit in even tighter quarters then usual as they tried to stay away from him. By the time the truck lurched to a stop, and the men unloaded, moving as quietly as possible towards the village, everyone was hoping Richard would decide to remain in the truck and not interfere.

"Hurry up! Run!' Richard yelled, his voice shockingly load in comparison to the quiet of the village and of the soldiers. They stared at him with murder in their eyes- their element of surprise was gone- and watched as he led the way, hoping he'd take the first hit.

They all arranged themselves in the shadows, centering around the village square. There was only one path into the main part of the village, and the vampires were low level enough to have to rely on their legs. Eyes focused on the on entrance, on the spindly wicker gate, they waited.

The gate crumpled as they finally arrived. The two vampires were male and identical twins. They had long, dirty blonde hair pulled back in matching braids, and they were wearing similar uniforms that marked them as from the processing center for tribute maidens in the east.

"Do you smell that?" The first asked.

"I do. Gunpowder and metal; sweat and fear. Could this be rebellion?"

"I think it could. Such things must not be tolerated!" The two each moved to the entrance of different alleyways, where the largest congregations of men were. There were barrels pointed at the two, but they laughed. They were obviously fairly new to the vampire game, because they weren't even trying to avoid the bullets. As if they couldn't smell the silver.

Richard emerged from his ridiculous hiding place, within a water barrel. He was drenched to the skin, and his knees knocked together, his bravado gone. But despite that, his faith in his own twisted schemes still lingered, and he called out a taunt at the second brother. The two turned in perfect unison, and the first was peppered with bullets from behind. He faded to dust.

The second was too fast, fueled but rage. He leapt for Richard, and the men all moved to try and stop him.

There as no need. Inches from Richard's throat, the vampire was repelled backwards, and no matter how much force he put into his blows, some stronger force kept him at bay. Lord Hellsing began to laugh, and laugh, delighted with his own power.

"No vampire can harm me! I am a Hellsing!" He cried, and as the soldiers shot the second twin to death, they wondered if it was true.

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**All hail Resident Quetzal.**

**The fun begins next chapter. Hopefully. My outlines have run out, so 'm basically screwed. Ah, well. Please, please, please review, I honestly have no idea whether I'm doing this light, and only you can tell me.**


	7. Starry Interlude

_Chapter Six_

The grand hall of Castle Nosferatu had been lit up for the humans on the night of the meeting. Glass light fixtures had been installed on the walls and mounted in the centers of small tables. The floors and walls were all draped and carpeted in the same shade of bloodred. Most of the lesser Lords and a few of their Ladies were already there, milling around the room, talking in low, hushed whispers.

There were chairs along one wall, but no one was sitting down. Manners dictate they wait until the Four Lords arrive before they could be seated.

Meanwhile, in the dungeon where the tribute maidens were kept, Integral was helping the other girls into their clothes. The four-Ida, her 'sister'; Sara and Eliza, matching blondes who had come on the same caravan as Ida and Integral; and little, red-haired Melissa, who was only fifteen and looked so helpless as to invite the protectiveness of all the other girls.

They were all getting into their dresses, low-cut, silky gowns that left them shivering and goose-bumped. Integral pulled up zippers and helped them smooth their hair as best she could- feminine appearance was not exactly her forte. She herself was wearing her best suit, coal black. After making the final adjustments, the five left the room, and marched under the eyes of two vampire guards down to the grand hall.

The lesser Lords and Ladies looked on, watching with interest as the maidens made their way to a particularly bright corner, where none of the vampires were standing. They stood close together, staying behind Integral, who eyed the vampires around her without fear.

Below them, the sound of a gong rang out. It was a signal; the vampires moved back into two lines, forming a corridor walled in by their bodies. The double doors opened, and the four they'd been waiting on arrived, Lords Vale and Fin accompanied by vampiresses. Lord Fin was with a nervous young woman, one of his harem's fledglings; Lord Vale with his famous bride, who was indeed stunningly beautiful and elegant.

Dracula was not with them. Integral wasn't sure what to make of that; he might just be planning to arrive dramatically later, or he might not be coming at all. While she knew that she was a trained hunter, against the whole hall of vampires her only real asset would be the powers she had gained from the Iscariot incident, and revealing those would create problems, if only because she didn't know the extent of her ability and could overreach herself without realizing it.

But if this meeting was, as she suspected, for the purpose of forcibly turning these women, she could hardly stand by and watch it happen, or let it happen to herself.

"My fellow undead." Lord Fin announced, turning to face the crowd. Chairs were pulled out, and within minutes, all the vampires were seated. He continued. "Our females are starved for company. Should we deny them? I present to you the next generation, humans that will soon join us and add worthy new members to our race."

He gestured to the five humans in the corner. "Come forward." He ordered. The girls hesitantly began walking, Integra in the lead. The humans could feel the eyes of the many vampires watching them; it was an uncomfortable feeling, akin to that of a bleeding fish in sight of a shark.

Ida was closest to Integra; she kept her head lowered, her expression blank with terror. Before coming to the Castle, she had thought that it would mean nothing to die here. She had been wrong. Ida wanted very much to live.

"Which one of you wants to go first?" Lord Fin asked, smiling as if he'd said something funny. Some of the vampires did laugh, feeling as though they were obligated to do so.

When no one volunteered, Fin moved closer. The girls stepped back, but Integral remained where she was, out front. Fin looked at her questioningly, if as it hadn't occurred to him that any of the girls would dare to try and resist their fates. It hadn't-Integra was with Dracula, and Fin had thought that the elder vampire would know how to break in a human properly.

"Are you volunteering?" He asked. Integra rolled her eyes.

"For damnation? At your hands?" She shook her head. "No."

"Damnation? I assure you, there is nothing more desirable than becoming one of the immortal undead."

"Except death, and violation, and being impaled on a sharp object... I can go on."

"Has no one ever taught you proper respect, girl?" Fin snarled. Rebellion was not something he was interested in dealing with.

"For you? Do something to make me respect you, vampire." Integra replied, wondering how far back the other girls were. Fin was definitely going to force them, she was certain of it, and if it came down to a fight, she wanted all the room she could get. Fin advanced, and reached and snatched at her hand. There was a stab of pain as he squeezed her wrist.

Fin jerked around as a hand laid itself on his shoulder. Dracula was standing behind him. No one had noticed him come in, or even realized he was there until a second ago, which only added to his usual aura of menace.

"It would seem that I am late." He said. "These are the candidates for turning?"

"Yes." Fin said, still clutching Integra's hand. She tried to pull away, and he squeezed even harder. Integra was reasonably certain he'd broken something.

"I don't recall volunteering her." The implication-that Dracula didn't want his tribute maiden turned-didn't sit well with Fin, but rather than express that feeling, he shoved Integra toward Dracula and turned towards Sara. Integra felt her hand move involuntarily as the broken bones knitted together and unzipped one of her gloves slightly.

Ida gave her a pleading look from behind the twins, and Integra pulled away from Dracula and went towards the girls again. Fin glared at her.

"Step back." He ordered. "Do not interfere!" The Hellsing ignored him, shielding the four girls with her body. Fin hesitated, and settled for motioning towards her in a threatening way. She didn't budge, just stared intensely at him.

"I stand with my own kind." Integra snapped. "Either fight or let us leave, it's damned drafty in here." It was a bluff-she couldn't enforce it-but she didn't really need to, as not even the four Lords wanted to risk hurting her and inciting Dracula's wrath. On the other hand, this display of rebellion would not go unpunished.

It was a stalemate.

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Seras Victoria knew Pip Bernadette.

The evidence of the dogtags and of those long red hairs lingered in her mind. No one at Hellsing was supposed to know where she was with the exceptions of Walter, Anderson, and Richard. The Captain wouldn't have been informed. This was to ensure no one could betray the plan; however, it was also to prevent anyone from trying something rash. Integra had known there was no way to contact Hellsing once inside.

And if he was alive, and Seras could find him…there was an opportunity there. A small one, and a dangerous one, but there was a way to get information out to Hellsing all the same. The trick wouldn't be convincing Seras into doing it, Integra was sure she could sue the girl's own morality to do that, it was that no other vampire could know. And Integra suspected that Dracula would keep an eye on his fledgling.

Still, she felt she ought to make up a note-something sort and encoded-she could give to the vampires in case of emergency.

While Integra scribbled down a summary of all she had learned here, Seras sat on the roof of the building, looking up at the stars.

She was thinking about him. The Captain who'd given her his blood.

No one had ever done anything like that ever, as far as she knew. With the exception of Fallen families, families who had sided with vampires during the war only to be betrayed, every human proudly boasted death over feeding a vampire outright. Bu the Captain had done it. He'd let her bite him, knowing she could kill him, knowing he was giving away a piece of his soul, knowing she was his enemy.

The blood had been hot and rich, and now she felt as if she could fly. The strength in her body was the same as when she'd first awakened in the castle she now lay on top of. Now she understood why her master was so insistent about her drinking, why any vampire would drink away another's life.

It felt good.

She still had the dogtags; she didn't know what to do with them. Finding him and returning him sounded good in theory, but in practice it might get her killed. She did owe the man, though. He'd saved her. That happened to her a lot…the most unlikely people helped her…

First, the police when she was younger, then Master giving her a second life, or unlife, and now this vampire hunter giving her blood. She'd meant to protect people as a human, but instead she was a fairly helpless vampire.

She was dangerous- a fact really brought home by Susan, Master's…Seras couldn't think of Susan as being anyone's woman. The sharp features of her face and the tribute maiden's scowl made her seem unsuited for what was basically prostitution.

Then again, Master was weird. Maybe he liked that.

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Walter mildly drank his tea and fussed over paperwork, ignoring Captain Bernadette, who lounged in the chair across from him. While the captain looked nonchalant, inwardly he suspected Walter was trying to worm information out of him in a very subtle way.

Pip did not want to talk about her. The Police Girl.

He knew that letting a hungry young vampire eat you was a bad idea. He was aware that he'd sworn an oath to this organization. He could imagine the carnage this girl could commit now that he'd helped her. But the sight of her face, of eyes that were going blind and fear that overtaking her, had bothered him. He wasn't a cruel person, despite his choice of profession.

He could put her out of her misery, or he could abate it, albeit temporarily. He could have killed her, but knowing that she was the woman in the picture he'd found, knowing she'd obviously suffered made it hard. So he'd let her off.

Walter, Richard, Sir Hellsing, Anderson…none of them would approve. They might sympathize, but they wouldn't agree. The Hellsing organization hunted vampires, it didn't hemp them. But…

He hadn't wanted her to die, even though his mind pointed out she was dead already, so he'd insured she lived a little longer.

Now she had his dogtags. They seemed worthless enough, and they wouldn't be much help to the enemy, but they could identify him as her savior, and that was reason enough to worry.

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	8. Storm

_Chapter Seven_

The dungeons seemed even colder than usual. The girls huddled together around Integral, who alone remained calm. Melissa was pressed up against her back, and both the twins were sitting in front of her. Ida was at her right, clutching at her wrist in blind panic. They were all whispering fearfully about their possible fates, while waiting for Integra to reassure them.

"Enough. They might come back at any moment; there's no point in cowering now." She said. The other girls looked aghast at first, then slowly straightened up and let go of her. Integra went on, "Relax, and change clothes."

While the girls hastened to do as she said, Integra stood up and resisted the urge to pace. She had learned some useful things during the meeting, even thought she was in considerably more danger than before now. There was obviously a need now for female vampires, enough to make the Lords nervous. The upper-levels of vampire society were unused to rebellion, which could be useful for a sneak attack.

And Dracula! His behavior had been bizarre from the beginning. First, he had claimed her and refrained from killing her despite his knowing she was a Hellsing. Second, he had actually acted to maintain his claim. And third, he had even gone against his own people in defense of her. Either he was very, very bored, or he had elaborate ulterior motives that she needed to find out about.

_I'm hurt that you think so little of my hospitality._

_Is that what you call it? Are all of your little vampire councils this successful?_

_I wouldn't know. _

_No, you wouldn't, would you? Odd, that you refuse to participate in a world you helped create…_

_A stalemate is always boring, Miss Hellsing. Open war is much more interesting_. _In two days, they will celebrate a thousand years of what? Growing fat and slow as they forget the thrill of battle?_

Integra didn't answer, as her mind whirred. Two days, he had said. The festival was beginning so soon? She would have to get word to headquarters, and quickly.

* * *

Seras inched, her knees held still by sheer willpower, towards the cliff where she had met the Captain. Tucked down the front of her shirt was an encoded note from Susan, who claimed she had a sweetheart in Hellsing to whom she wanted the letter delivered. Seras had wanted to sympathize, but she secretly had trouble imagining Susan with nay man.

But the problem remained; how was she going to find the Captain? How would she convince him to take the note? For that matter, how would she avoid getting shot? How would she get into Hellsing headquarters?

Seras stood still for a moment, then continued on, trying to meld into the shadows.

* * *

Pip emerged from the top of the headquarters, cigarette in hand, unable to sleep. It was close to dawn, and already the sky seemed a little lighter. His was the last shift of the night; then the day guard would take over while the rest of the organization slept.

He reached his post, checked his gun, and stubbed out the cigarette. And then he saw it.

Eyes, red eyes, from the cliffs above. They were barely visible, but moving down, towards him. The rocky terrain above the vampire kept them in shadow, but as they descended, they were touched by the faint light. He recognized the shape of the blonde girl coming towards him. It was her.

"Hi." Seras said, as soon as she was within hearing range. She was on the ground now, keeping her head down, with a scarf wrapped around her hair and neck to protect her. Blonde bangs poked out over her forehead. She glanced up quickly, and saw his expression and the barrel of his gun. "I have a message from one of the tribute maidens for one of the men here. Her name's Susan Dow, and she says her sweetheart works here…name's Pip?"

The captain froze. A tribute maiden that knew his name? Susan? The name was unfamiliar and he didn't have any sweetheart. It had to be a trick. "What's she look like?"

"Blonde, dark skin, blue eyes, glasses…wears suits…" Seras offered.

There was a silence as Pip tried to comprehend that. It could be a coincidence, of course, but no one had seen the 'sick' Sir Integra for a while now, and he had heard of Codename: Mina before. It was the right time, and she was the best shot they had. He hesitated.

"I'm Pip Bernadette. Give it to me." Seras threw him the note, and he glanced over it. Code, but one he knew. Walter would get this first, and then Anderson. Richard would never see it, if they were lucky.

* * *

"And so, after much consideration, I have realized the truth. Integra, my dear niece, has betrayed us and chosen the path of an undead monster instead. Thus, we will not follow her advice and attack the celebrations on Capital Isle; instead, we will remain here and continue our efforts."

The room stared as one at Richard, who stood smugly at the podium. He thought that his speech made perfect sense, and certainly it would keep his own plans on track. That his niece might die was an excellent bonus. But the rest of Hellsing couldn't understand why they weren't attacking, or how Sir Integra would ever betray them-forced to be a vampire, they could understand, but to willingly take the option? Oh, no. She was one of them, not a pompous incompetent fool-she had bled the same way they had and had proven her right to lead again and again.

Anderson stood up, fists clenched. "What nonsense is that? Integra, undead? How do you know?"

"I have…certain, shall we say-"

"Is this one of your power-hungry tricks, Richard?" Anderson snarled defiantly. "Integra would never betray us-she's not like you."

The occupants of the room were moving, slowly but surely, and most of them were gathering around Anderson. Not even the Hellsing name could hold their loyalty to Richard at this point. Walter was wearing his monofilament gloves, and a few of the Wild Geese were openly drawing weapons as well.

Richard stayed where he was, but his confidence was shaking. He couldn't die, but an open rebellion would strip him of his power. He needed…something…

* * *

They were starting with speeches.

Integra waited in her room, rummaging through her coffin, as the sounds of music, and yelling came form deeper within the palace. The vampires had begun celebrating here, after which they would move to the domed city itself. Right now, each of the Lords would be giving a speech meant to boost morale while outlining the supposed accomplishments of the vampires.

She knew that the maidens wouldn't be left alone; they would have to do something about them, most likely turning them in public, or else saving them for dessert. She had limited resources, limited intelligence, and no way of knowing what headquarters was planning until Seras returned to her.

As if the young vampires had heard her thoughts, the door opened to reveal her.

"I gave him the note." Seras muttered, slamming the door behind her and crouching down, to close for Integra's comfort. "But I have to leave. They're planning a surprise attack on Hellsing in a couple hours; I'm going to have to be fast if I want to warn them."

Integra froze. The defenses at Hellsing headquarters were very good, it was true, but they were still vulnerable, particularly to a sea attack if the vampires could fire at the location form their ships. And if it came to close quarters, how much ammunition was stocked at the base? She tied to recall the numbers, but knew that a higher level vampire could withstand some silver, and the vampires would almost certainly take precautions. Seras going to warn them was a stroke of luck.

"Hurry." Integra hesitated, then slipped off the ring she was wearing. It was silver coated steel, inscribed with the Hellsing family seal. "Tell them I sent you. Don't come back, just put yourself in Pip's custody. Do you understand?"

"Sure." Seras replied. "I'm going. Be careful." She hurried out of the room.

* * *

The ships were loaded. First, with supplies of blood. Then with armor and various weapons. Finally, ammunition for the ship's onboard cannons and bombs were loaded. The vampires formed groups under the command of higher ranked undead, and each of the vampire lords was in charge of one front of battle. Dracula himself had refused any particular location of battle, but had suggested that he might join in.

The supplies of blood weren't frozen blood packs, but instead a selection of humans. None of the tribute maidens had been brought-they were being kept back in case reinforcements were needed. The humans had been grabbed off the coast and were currently banging on the walls and panicking, sensing that their lives were in peril.

Integra remained pressed into the corner, knees pressed to her chest, head down. She had been pulled aboard the ship by Dracula, and left to her own devices-although what he was getting at by bringing her to battle was beyond her. She was hoping to get to Hellsing and help command the counterattack, even as she trusted Anderson, Walter, and her own trained soldiers to do their best. Her fears were twofold: first, that Richard would do something foolish and undermine operations, and that the vampires would overwhelm Hellsing forces before she could reach them and join the fight. She could only hope that Seras had made it in time.

Integra prayed that her trust in the blonde vampiress was justified, and then felt the ship begin to slow. She started to stand, and then changed her mind. She had no desire to get into a fistfight with a hysterical victim. Crawling, she made her way to the steel door of the crate. She looked left, then right, and then stood up, close to the door.

With one swift blow, Integra slammed the door out of its frame, sending it careening a few feet away with a loud screeching sound. Without pausing, she rushed towards the edge of the deck, where there was a tall guardrail. Vampires charged at her, and she ducked one's fist and stabbed another in the face with her only weapon. Once she reached the guardrail, she jumped, grabbed on to the top with one hand, and hauled herself over.

The vampires watched as she plummeted down into the ocean, her eyes fixed on the coast where Hellsing was located. She glanced up, as her feet hit the surface.

Dracula was leaning over the guardrail, impossibly tall, and smirking openly as she sunk briefly into the sea. Integra bobbed back to the surface, and immediately began swimming, putting all of her enhanced muscles to work. The vampire didn't waste time watching her strike out towards land; he dissolved into a cloud of bats and flew out above the sea, a black plague moving towards the waiting soldiers of Hellsing.

* * *

Seras waited outside Hellsing HQ for only a few minutes before being caught by the soldiers on patrol. She didn't waste time either trying to fight or to argue: she simply began screaming that the other vampires were coming by sea as loudly as she could.

Within a minute, there were ten more soldiers with guns trained on her. As they circled, Richard emerged with Pip and Anderson flanking him-not for his protection so much as their own.

"You see?" Richard said smugly. "Already, Integra has sent her minions to-"

He was ignored, as Seras shrieked and flung herself at Pip's feet. "They're coming! The entire vampire fleet! They're coming right now, you have to leave!"

"Ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous? The undead seek to attack and you call it ridiculous?" Anderson asked.

"How could we not know beforehand?" Richard asked. Walter stared at him as if he were stupid for a brief second before regaining his composure.

"We have no way of knowing." Walter replied. "As it is, if this vampiress is correct, than-"

"I will not stand for this cowardice!" Richard protested. Anderson gave him a long, flat look. Than he turned to face the men.

"Sir Hellsing sent me a letter." The regenerator told them. "She says the vampires are convening on Capital Isle to create more females. There's also a list of coordinates, of places where vampires breed humans for turning."

"This vampiress delivered the letter before." Pip added. "So if Sir Hellsing trusts her, we do too."

"We need to prepare for an immediate evacuation via the tunnels, and we need to begin readying ourselves for a full scale battle." Walter finished.

* * *

Seras had to admit, the soldiers of Hellsing were efficient once they knew what was happening. Immediately, people split off into teams and began moving supplies onto carts, which were then transported via the recently resurrected subway system to different stations. The idea was that the army would form two groups away from the base, and then try to drive the vampires back over the cliff and into the sea.

They had silver ammunition, blessed bullets, anti-vampire bombs, even a few tanks, of all things, modified to kill vampires by being anointed with holy water. The Hellsing Organization was in position within two hours, and Seras, following at Pip's heels, was impressed. Pip and the Wild Geese were leading one group, while Anderson and Walter were leading the other. Richard had accompanied Pip, but he was being ignored; the men were in no mood to tolerate him if there was a war afoot.

Hunkered down, the soldiers clutched at their weapons- guns, maces, swords, even sharpened crosses- and readied themselves to fight and die; they stared at the coastline, where the ships were approaching, and the vampires hungered.

There were dark clouds swirling overhead, and the wind began to blow; a cloud of bats made dark circles against the grey clouds. There was an ominous sense of destruction in the air, and as the first ship raised its cannons, Pip couldn't help but shudder.

Hellsing's final stand was about to begin, and in the end, who would left standing? Who would still be living?

* * *

**The showdown begins next chapter. **

**Reviews might keep the humans alive.**


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